Three days later, Will stood at the grand gates of Aetheron Royal Arcane Academy, feeling painfully out of place.
The academy was everything the border town of Spicehaven was not — towering white spires floating gently above crystal-clear mana lakes, students in pristine robes floating between buildings on small wind platforms, and the constant hum of magical energy in the air. Everything smelled like expensive incense and polished marble. Nothing smelled like food.
Will adjusted the Simple Apron tied around his waist and tightened his grip on the handle of the Inherited Kitchen Knife, which he had wrapped in cloth to look slightly less ridiculous. The Mother's Worn Pot was strapped to his back like an oversized backpack, still faintly smelling of last night's experimental soup.
Around him, hundreds of examinees chatted confidently. Most were noble-born mages in their late teens, already casting small demonstration spells to impress each other — floating fireballs, swirling water orbs, crackling lightning between fingertips.
A tall boy with golden hair and an arrogant smirk walked past Will, giving him a once-over.
"A cook?" he laughed loudly enough for nearby students to hear. "Did you get lost on the way to the servants' entrance? This is the combat entrance exam, not a kitchen tryout."
His friends burst into laughter.
Will kept his head down, cheeks burning. He knew he looked ridiculous. No staff, no grimoire, no fancy robe — just an apron, a knife, and an old pot.
But he had made a promise.
A soft voice suddenly cut through the mockery.
"He's not lost."
Einsfel appeared from the crowd of spectators, her silver-gray hair shining under the academy's magical sunlight. She wore the standard first-year mage robe, but it looked elegant on her. Her blue eyes were steady as she walked straight to Will's side.
The laughing boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You know this… kitchen boy, Einsfel?"
"He's my childhood friend," she said calmly. "And he has every right to be here."
The boy sneered. "Right to embarrass himself, maybe."
Einsfel's expression didn't change, but Will noticed the faint flicker of magic around her fingers — a sign her power was getting agitated. She had always been sensitive to people insulting him.
Will gently touched her arm.
"It's okay," he whispered. "I can handle it."
She looked at him, worry clear in her eyes, but nodded and stepped back to the spectator area.
A loud bell rang across the testing grounds.
"Examinees, line up!" an examiner shouted from a raised platform. "The practical combat test will now begin. You will each face a summoned low-to-mid level magical beast. Display your combat capability using magic. Those without sufficient power will be disqualified."
Will's stomach twisted.
He was in the last group.
One by one, candidates stepped forward. Fireballs exploded. Ice spears pierced through summoned Flamefang Wolves. Wind blades sliced through armored boars. Each performance was met with applause and impressed murmurs from the examiners.
Then it was Will's turn.
He walked into the circular testing arena, heart pounding. The Simple Apron felt suddenly very thin. The Mother's Worn Pot on his back felt heavier than ever.
The examiner looked at him with obvious confusion.
"Candidate… Will Harlan. You… brought cooking equipment?"
A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.
Will swallowed hard and nodded.
"Yes, sir."
The examiner sighed. "Very well. Releasing the beast."
A magic circle lit up on the ground. With a roar, a mid-sized Flamefang Beast materialized — larger than the pup from town, with glowing red eyes and flames constantly licking its fur. It was the same type of creature Will had accidentally defeated three days ago.
The beast locked onto Will and charged with a furious snarl.
Will didn't run. Instead, he dropped to one knee, pulled the Mother's Worn Pot off his back, and frantically began cooking right there in the middle of the arena.
He dumped in the chili peppers and spices he had prepared in advance. The Inherited Kitchen Knife flashed as he sliced meat into the pot. The Simple Apron protected him from the splashing hot oil.
The spicy aroma exploded outward, cutting through the clean magical scent of the academy like a declaration of war.
The Flamefang Beast skidded to a halt mid-charge, nose twitching violently.
It sniffed once.
Twice.
Then its savage expression melted into something almost… blissful.
The beast ignored Will completely and lunged straight for the pot.
Will didn't hesitate. He scooped a massive ladleful of the bubbling Hellfire Hotpot Base and flung it directly into the beast's open mouth.
The effect was instantaneous.
The Flamefang Beast's eyes bulged. Its entire body began to shake as the overwhelming spiciness triggered a catastrophic fire element overload. Flames erupted uncontrollably from every pore. Its own protective fire shield turned against it, roasting the beast from the inside.
"GRAAAAAHHH— TOO SPICY!!! MY FIRE— IT'S BURNING ME!!!"
The beast spun in wild circles, shooting flames in every direction, before finally collapsing in a dramatic explosion of chili-scented smoke and sparks.
Silence fell over the entire testing ground.
Examiners stared with open mouths.
Students who had been laughing earlier now looked completely stunned.
From the spectator area, Einsfel's clear voice rang out first.
She was smiling — bright, proud, and just a little teary.
"Will… you did it."
Will stood there, pot still in hand, Simple Apron covered in oil splatters, breathing hard.
He looked at the smoking remains of the beast, then at the Mother's Worn Pot, which now had a faint silver-gray light glowing along its rim.
A small, determined smile finally broke across his face.
"Maybe… soup really can be a weapon."
The examiner cleared his throat, still clearly in shock.
"Candidate Will Harlan… you pass. By the narrowest and strangest margin I have ever seen. Welcome to Aetheron Academy… as a Special Auxiliary Chef."
Laughter and confused whispers spread through the crowd.
But Will didn't care.
He had taken the first step.
Now he just had to survive the rest of the academy — preferably without burning down the entire campus.